Slow the Rain
by TheAgonyofBlank
Summary: Sometimes, she has dreams.  This was started in 2009 and I never finished it...
1. I'll See You in My Dreams

Title: Slow the Rain (Part One: I'll See You in My Dreams)  
>Fandom: <em>Fringe<em> crossover with… anyone want to guess?  
>Pairing: Olivia and – again, does anyone want to guess?<br>Rating: G.  
>Words: 1200.<br>Author's Note/Disclaimer: I've never done anything like this before, so hopefully this works out and people aren't just like, "What the fuck?" This 'series' – if I do end up writing more – vaguely follows Ingrid Michaelson's Slow the Rain, but the songs are definitely out of order and do not follow the track list. At all. Characters do not belong to me – they belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. (And you can guess who the second fandom belongs to, but it's fairly easy, or so I think anyway.)

* * *

><p>Sometimes, she has dreams.<p>

Not ordinary dreams, mind you – she's _Olivia Dunham_, and sometimes she thinks that's a good enough explanation for why nothing plain and ordinary ever happens to her. Between the supernatural occurrences and ZFT, she's certain she'll never be able to lead an _ordinary_ life, even if she wanted to.

Of course, the dreams seem normal enough.

And in essence, they are.

She's on a sandy beach, and as she looks out into the expansive ocean, she can't see anything else. Not at first, at least. She meanders slowly down the beach, not in any particular hurry, and only when she arrives at the next stretch of beach after having followed the curve of the island (because that's what it is, an _island_) does she see it. It's distant but very present. A smaller island amongst the crashing surf.

She wonders what's over there but then realizes she _knows_, as though she's been there before. And it's her dream, so really it should go the way she wants it to – but then it strikes her that she's actually been there before, on the other island. What really startles her, however, is the realization that she's been on this island too, the one she's currently on. She doesn't know how or why she knows this; it's a gut feeling, and though she knows she herself has never physically been here, it's familiar all the same.

She wakes up the next day, rested, and doesn't think about the dream again until two days later, when she has the same dream.

It's not actually the same dream, but…

She walks along a sandy beach, the same one she found herself on just a few days ago. This time, instead of seeing a smaller island, she just sees charred metal and feels the hot heat. Groggily – she doesn't know why she's groggy, but she is – she gets up, and it's a disaster around her. Cries and shouts; she can almost feel the pain and confusion of everyone around her. And then she spots it: The plane she came on. (Or should she say, the plane her dream self came on.) She rushes toward it – maybe there are people still alive in there – but then there's a flash of light and it's peaceful again. Just the gulls' cries overhead, and the waves beating against the shore. She's a little confused, looks around frantically. It was just there – right in front of her, she _saw everything_ –

Someone calls out to her from behind, and she can't quite make out the words that are being said, but she _knows _she's being spoken to. So she turns, still confused, but her lips must be pulling into a smile, because the woman who's addressing her – a beautiful woman, with wavy blonde hair and kind, tired eyes – this woman, her lips curve upwards from a thin line into a soft smile that makes her heart flutter in a way she hasn't felt in a long, long time now.

"Let's go," says the nameless woman, and she extends her hand to Olivia.

And Olivia knows better – knows not to trust nameless strangers off the street, but _shit_, this is _her dream_, and she's on a _beach_, and if she wants to take this woman's hand, then she will, thank you very much.

She places her hand in the other woman's—

—and there's another flash of light, and then nothing.

* * *

><p>She consults Walter first thing in the morning. She tells him about these dreams, how <em>real<em> they are, and asks if it's 'another Lane boy episode' – and she's never considered that before (though now that he's brought it up, she doesn't know why she hadn't thought of it earlier), so she stops for a full second to think about it.

And yes, it _is_ very similar to what happened with Nick Lane, but there's also something subtly different about these dreams. There's certainly nothing menacing about them, no suicidal feelings, no deaths – except for the brief interlude with the plane crash, but there was something about that experience that left her feeling more confused than anything else. Somehow, she tells Walter, she doesn't think she's experiencing someone else's emotions. They seem to be her own, this time.

He looks thoughtful at that, then nods his head and mutters, "Of course."

And just like that, the matter is settled.

* * *

><p>But a week later, her dream picks up where she left it.<p>

She's in the jungle this time, and at first she thinks she's finally dreaming of something else, _somewhere else_ besides that same old place. But then she spots _her_ – the same woman from her previous dream standing directly ahead of her, waiting for her – and she realizes, feeling both deflated yet hopeful at the same time, that she's still here, wherever _here_ may be.

"Where-" she starts to ask, but is silenced as the woman reaches forward and pressed a finger to her lips.

"Look," is all the woman says, and she pushes some branches aside to reveal a log cabin.

And Olivia doesn't think she can be any more confused than she already is, but somehow she thinks the appropriate thing to do here is to smile and say something appreciative. Which is exactly what she does.

"I didn't make it, you know," the woman says, interrupting Olivia's praise, an amused smile on her face. "The cabin."

"I- I know," Olivia manages, feeling foolish but still clueless. She sucks in a breath, says, "But it's for us." She doesn't know what makes her say this; it just seems _right_, even though she only met this woman a week ago and has only seen her for the second time.

"Of course. It's a gift, from Rose and Bernard," says the woman as she reaches for her hand and pulls her forward gently.

She follows, doesn't know who Rose or Bernard is, but willingly going along with the whole façade anyway. She can find out more this way.

As they near the porch steps, the woman in front of her slows, turns around. "It's – it was a surprise. For you."

"I-" she pauses, taken aback. Then politely, "Thank you." She tries to smile, tries to mean it, but somehow she doesn't think she's fooling the other woman. She wants to be thankful, she does, but she's just so very confused, and somehow she can't voice all that she's feeling.

She almost expects the other woman to call her on her bluff, ask her if anything's wrong. If nothing else, the woman's blue eyes bore into her questioningly, but she doesn't say anything. Seems to consider, and then back down.

What happens next – a quick kiss on the lips – is chaste yet so unexpected that Olivia can't help but stare as the woman pulls away, turns around and reaches for the door as though that wasn't out of the ordinary.

Which it is. For Olivia, anyway.

But – and she'd never thought she'd say this – she's _saved_ from having to come up with an appropriate response by the flash of white light she's now grown accustomed to.

And that's that.


	2. Charlie

Title: Slow the Rain (Part Two: Charlie)  
>Fandom: <em>Fringe<em>/_Lost_ crossover.  
>Pairing: Oliviadoes anyone want to guess?  
>Rating: G.<br>Words: 1285.  
>Author's NoteDisclaimer: Characters belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. Title belongs to Ingrid Michaelson.

* * *

><p>She misses her old dreams.<p>

The ones that didn't mean anything, or the ones that gave her gentle reminders about miniscule, unimportant events. Like a distant friend's wedding, or forgetting to put the clothes in the wash.

She doesn't dream about things like that anymore.

She either dreams about the island or she doesn't dream at all.

And it's not that her newer dreams are unpleasant. It's just that they unsettle her.

Sometimes she finds herself in a jungle, sometimes a beach or a cave or even a waterfall – but no matter the setting, it's always the island in some form or another. Her dreams always seem to pick up where she last left off, and they always seem to involve the same blonde woman with the same blue eyes.

She wakes when the sunlight hits her eyes, and can't shake the distinct feeling of having lost something – but how is that possible if she doesn't know she had it to begin with?

* * *

><p>As the months pass, her questions go from <em>where am I?<em> to _how can I find this place?_

Walter has suppositions and theories, but none of them tell Olivia anything she doesn't already know.

This place – this island – occupies her thoughts every spare moment she has. Obsessed is one word for it, but how can she not be, when it refuses to leave her alone? Sometimes she's so certain she's been there before that she forgets it's not real, forgets it's just a dream and that places with polar bears in the tropical sun don't exist.

* * *

><p>In mid-August, out of the blue, Walter brings it up of his own accord.<p>

"Have you considered-" he starts, thoughtfully – and Olivia really has no idea what he's about to say, because with Walter, it could be anything. "-déjà vu?"

She hasn't mentioned the dreams in a month now, and is surprised Walter remembers them.

She spares a glance at Peter, who only shrugs his shoulders noncommittally.

"Yes," she hears herself say. "Yes, you mentioned that before, a long time ago. Do you remember, Walter?"

And she doesn't expect Walter to remember back to May, when she saw brief glimpses into another world, but again he surprises her.

"Oh, yes," he says, after a moment's pause. "That's right. Forgive me, Olivia, I must have forgotten."

He seems to sink back into thoughtfulness, muttering to himself as he bustles around the lab.

"Walter," Olivia says, watching the older man. When he doesn't seem to hear her, she repeats herself, more firmly this time, "_Walter._"

He looks at her, not quite meeting her eyes, but she's got his attention for the moment, and that's all that matters.

"These dreams, Walter," she says slowly, considering her words. "They're different from déjà vu."

_They're longer sequences,_ she wants to say, _they happen in a place I've never been to – _but she doesn't.

Instead she watches Walter for a response, wondering if he's going to tell her that there are different kinds of déjà vu, and just because she's experienced one kind before doesn't mean she's experienced all the others. But he doesn't say anything, not to her, at least.

He simply makes a thoughtful noise, and with a slight nod, he turns away from her, continues his mutterings as though she had never interrupted him to begin with.

* * *

><p>That night, she dreams of the island again.<p>

This time, she finds herself in a house. A well-kept house; neat, clean, sunny. She leans over the countertop, pushes the curtain aside and looks outside. It's just bright, white light and she can't really see anything past it. And even though this is drastically different from what she's associated with her previous dreams of the place, she _knows_ she's still on the island.

"You still don't remember, do you?"

The voice is one she's become accustomed to – gentle and probing – and she can just imagine the blonde woman tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

She turns around, asks, "Remember what?"

The blonde only smiles, bemused.

"I wish you would remember, Livvie."

She's startled that the woman knows her name; in all the times in her dream, she's _never_ called her by name, or by anything even close to it.

"Remember what?" she repeats, knowing she won't get an answer as the words leave her mouth.

The woman steps in closer and takes her hands gently, surprises her with her response.

"Remember me."

Olivia's next words are swallowed by the flash of light that comes.

* * *

><p>When Olivia wakes up, all she can think of are countertops and blinding windows.<p>

This is the first time since the beginning that the details of the previous night's dream are fuzzy and lost in her head.

"_You still don't remember, do you?"_

The voice echoes in her head, and she shakes her head mutely.

She feels as though something has shifted. Something crucial.

But she doesn't remember. She doesn't remember a thing.

* * *

><p>October rolls around, and it marks the fifth month she's been having these dreams.<p>

Though she's no closer to finding out what they mean or why she's having them (or, secretly, how to get to this imaginary-yet-not place), Peter suggests she take a night off to 'blow off some steam.'

She's sure there's an implication to get drunk at the local bar, or maybe even go out clubbing.

The former has its merits, while the latter is just pushing her limits.

She's tired, very much so, and so instead of doing either of those things, she calls up this quaint place a few blocks from her house, makes a reservation for one.

At six o'clock exactly, she leaves the office for the restaurant, stopping by the lab on the way just to say goodbye.

"You're going in that?" Peter asks.

Olivia looks down, and realizes what Peter means. She's still in her work clothes. The corners of her lips lift up as she replies, "Yes."

It's not like she has to dress up for dinner with _herself._

"Do you wear anything besides those suits, Olivia?"

"Just pajamas," she replies as she walks out, smile on her face.

* * *

><p>By seven o'clock she's arrived at the restaurant, just in time for her reservation.<p>

To be honest, she's glad Peter suggested she treat herself to something. It adds some variation to her routine, and it's a good pick-me-up for the middle of the week. _A good pick-me-up for the five-month anniversary of something I can't figure out,_ she muses darkly to herself.

And when it arrives, she proceeds to cut into the roast beef that she ordered.

Halfway into her dinner, she's joined by Nina Sharp.

It's unexpected (like a lot of things are to her, nowadays) but not entirely unwelcome, and they make small talk, first about the food, and then about the recent disappearing children case she's been working on.

At the end of the evening, when both their wine glasses are empty, Nina slips her a card.

"You may find this useful, Agent Dunham."

Olivia starts to look at the business card.

"Oh, Agent Dunham?"

Her eyes snap back to Nina's.

"That island can be a difficult thing to track down. If I were you, I would give him a call."

Olivia doesn't know how Nina Sharp knows of her dreams of the island, but she knows there's no point in questioning the woman and her intentions. Not now, at least.

She waits until Nina's out of sight before looking properly at the card.

Like any other business card, there's a name and a number, as well as an address at the bottom.

She runs her fingers over the name, pauses at the last letter.

_CHARLES WIDMORE_

No, none of it sounds familiar at all.


	3. Mosquito

Title: Slow the Rain (Part Three: Mosquito)  
>Fandom: <em>FringeLost_ Crossover.  
>Pairing: OliviaI think you all know by now.  
>Rating: PG.<br>Spoilers: Up to Fringe 1x20 (the finale) and Lost 5x17.  
>Words: 1515.<br>Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. The fic and chapter title belong to Ingrid Michaelson.  
>Author's Note: This took me a little (a lot) longer, but hopefully it's enjoyable all the same. I appreciate any feedback you may have, whether critical or not.<p>

* * *

><p>The night after Nina Sharp hands Olivia the name card is the first night Olivia's dreams shift.<p>

She's still on the island – there's no doubt about that.

The breeze that hits her face is warm and sticky; humid, perhaps, is a better word for it. And she's running. Running as fast as she can. At first, she thinks she's running away from something, running for her life. But then she catches a glimpse of something up ahead: a tuft of black hair, a wisp of red, followed by echoes of laughter and childish shouts. The fleeting thought of stopping flies out of the window as she realizes she's _chasing after_ something, and so she surges ahead.

A flash of light momentarily blinds her, hindering her view, and by the time she looks around again, she finds herself standing on a sandy bank of a small lake.

The sound of laughter reaches her ears as she scans the body of water. And as her eyes come to rest upon the highest rock above the water, she spots him. Her heart leaps into her throat in surprise, and she can only stare in disbelief as he leaps off with a jubilant cry, his wavy black locks lifting with the momentum of the jump. The very next second and the boy has plunged into the cool water below.

He breaks the surface moments later, a large grin on his face. He calls out to the cliff above, and when Olivia follows the direction his eyes have taken, she comes upon a girl – a girl whose picture she's seen so many times before. The girl with the long red hair and freckles… and here she is now, in the flesh. The girl shakes her head in refusal to the boy's challenge, instead choosing to sit down on the rock and shift forward slowly, so that she ends up with her legs dangling over the edge.

Then she does something unexpected.

She looks up and directly into Olivia's eyes.

As Olivia raises a hand to wave, as she starts to walk forward to tell the two children to come with her, there is another flash of light.

And Olivia wakes up.

* * *

><p>"Peter."<p>

His name is the first thing she says when she arrives at the lab during her lunch break. The brown-haired man looks up at her, giving her a nod of recognition before he moves his keys from his teeth to his now-free hands. "Hey, Olivia."

She starts to ask for Walter, because what she has to say she wants both men to hear, but before she can open her mouth the man in question reappears from behind one of the lab benches, brandishing a pair of scissors.

"Hah! I've found it!" the older man exclaims, his voice triumphant and filled with satisfaction. He looks around the room and seems startled to notice Olivia's presence, and adds a more subdued, "Oh." A pause. When he speaks again, his voice seems more cheerful – as cheerful as Walter can be, at the very least. "Hello, Olivia. I thought I heard you for a minute there."

"Hello, Walter," Olivia manages a tight, though nonetheless genuine, smile.

"What can we help you with, Olivia?" Peter asks as he sorts through this week's purchases from the grocery store. Olivia takes note of the Fruit Loops with a smile.

"I think I may have a lead on the missing children's case we've been working on."

This seems to get both Walter's and Peter's attentions, and they both look at her expectantly.

"What about it, Olivia?"

"You remember the dreams I've been having, about the island?"

"Of course. But what does this have to do—"

"—Two of the children were in my dream."

* * *

><p>"Are you saying—" A brief pause. "Are you saying that I should go to the island?"<p>

"Well," Walter says, his tone patient yet at the same time suggesting that what he was saying was quite obvious. "Yes."

"But, Walter, this island doesn't even exist."

Walter pauses and frowns for a moment. Then, slowly, he says, "Actually, Olivia, I believe it _does_ exist."

Olivia doesn't know what to make of this.

"Walter," Peter interrupts, "Do you hear what you're saying? You're saying that this island – that Olivia's been _dreaming_ about is something that's actually real. You're saying that she could take a boat over and visit it."

"Yes," comes the reply, tone matter-of-fact.

"Do I want to know?" Peter's voice is laced with skepticism.

"It's quite simple, really," Walter says. "A theory, of course, but a very simple one. Have either of you heard of Oceanic Flight 815?"

It sounds familiar, but Olivia can't quite put her finger on it.

Peter's brow furrows in thought. And then, "You mean the flight that disappeared years ago? The one that was headed for Los Angeles?"

"Yes!" Walter nods, excited. "Thought to have crashed, though many think otherwise. It is my belief that they have somehow been transported to an island – much like, if not the exact one, that Olivia dreams of. Similarly, I posit that these two kids have somehow been brought to the island."

"Walter, none of these kids disappeared in a plane crash," Peter is quick to point out.

"Except," Olivia starts. "one of them did. It was an old case, from years ago, but we reopened the case file because of some similarities to the other disappearances. The girl in my dream last night – she was originally reported missing by her mother. The police found her later, healthy as ever, on a dock in Los Angeles. Two months later, the girl was being sent to Australia to see her father when her plane crashed in the ocean. None of the parts of the plane were ever found, but there was very little chance she was still alive."

Silence fills the room.

"Interesting…" Walter mutters to himself, and then probes gently, "You mentioned several 'similarities' this case had to the other ones, Olivia. What were they?"

A few minutes pass before she responds.

"The missing children all had a parent or close relative who worked for some research company, or drug company… I think it was called…" She paused again. "Mittelos Bioscience." Another pause. "Yes, that was it. Mittelos Bioscience."

"You're sure about this?" Peter questions.

"Quite certain," comes Olivia's response. "Why?"

"Well, this shouldn't come of a surprise to anyone," Peter begins. "But if I'm not mistaken, Mittelos Bioscience was – is – a subset of Massive Dynamic. Massive Dynamic bought it over years ago."

* * *

><p>Two nights later, after poring over numerous case files, Olivia falls asleep to the sound of the pounding rain.<p>

In her dream, a storm is brewing on the island.

She's standing in the drizzle as thunder roars and lightning strikes in the distance. The wind is fierce, blowing past her with such fury that she wonders how long it will take before she succumbs to it and is blown away. It is then that she becomes aware of a hand against the small of her back, a quiet whisper – barely audible in all this – in her ears. She turns, and she can't help but smile when she sees who it is.

"Hey," she says, her voice quiet.

The wind howls around her, and the thunder is loud, but she can hear the answering, "Hey" in response.

"Will you answer a question?"

"That depends on the question."

A pause.

"Are the children here?"

"You know the answer to that," the blonde replies, squeezing her hand.

A sigh from Olivia, and she turns so she can see the other woman's face. "Then will you tell me who you are?"

"You also know the answer to that, Olive."

Another pause, and this time it's the blonde who speaks first.

"Will you answer a question?"

"That depends."

This earns Olivia a wry look from the blonde.

"Are you going to stand out here in the rain?"

"Maybe," Olivia replies, half-expecting a protest. "Yes."

"Okay."

"What?"

"Okay. I'll wait for you at home."

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>When she wakes up, she can smell the rain in her hair. She thinks of the missing children and of the beautiful, unnamed woman, and almost instantly, she knows what she must do.<p>

She waits until a reasonable hour of the morning, and then picks up the phone.

Someone answers the phone on the third ring.

"Charles Widmore."

She hesitates. The voice is cool and smooth around the edges, and Olivia isn't sure what to make of it. She had expected a secretary – but trust Nina Sharp to get her Widmore's direct line.

By the time she hangs up the phone, she's managed to arrange to meet with him. Because of their conflicting schedules, the earliest date they settle on is on a Thursday, two weeks later.

But it's better than what she'd hoped for, and much better than nothing at all.

It's then that she realizes she never did tell Widmore why she wanted to meet with him.

She never mentioned the island once.

In fact, she hasn't mentioned her reason for contacting him at all.


End file.
